


Reið

by HysteriaLevi



Series: Kauna [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HysteriaLevi/pseuds/HysteriaLevi
Summary: Sigurd visits Valka after having a vision about Eivor, and finally admits his love for the man.
Relationships: Eivor/Sigurd Styrbjornson, Sigurd Styrbjornson/Eivor Wolfkissed, Sigurd Styrbjornson/Eivor Wolfsmal, Sigurd Styrbjornson/Male Eivor
Series: Kauna [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027300
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	Reið

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY MOLY. I can't thank you guys enough for the support you gave on my other fanfic, Naudr. I wasn’t planning to write more for that one, but quite a few people were asking for a sequel, so here it is. It’s a bit longer than the first part, but I really wanted to conclude the story between Sigurd & Eivor. Hope you enjoy :)

**RAVENSTHORPE**

**AFTERNOON**

Hovering his fist over the door to Valka’s hut, Sigurd found himself frozen by hesitance as he pondered whether or not this was a good idea, admittedly tempted to turn back around.

He wanted to find the answers to the endless list of questions that had been troubling him lately, but with the amount of possible outcomes that could’ve transpired from this visit, Sigurd couldn’t deny that he feared whatever awaited him in the future.

_What if the dreams were right?_ He wondered. What if they signified that of which he already suspected? What if he didn’t need Valka’s interpretation to begin with?

For an entire month, these incessant dreams had kept him preoccupied. They crept into his thoughts; dug into his life. They distracted him during a time of war, and drifted him away to a place where there was no reason to be found.

And even worse, there seemed to be no remedy for them. No matter how much mead he drank, or how many extravagant tales Dag regaled him with, they always seemed to linger in the back of his mind, clawing at him like an itch that just wouldn’t go away.

It was exhausting, at this point. Sigurd could hardly get a wink of sleep at night anymore, and with the same questions repeating themselves over and over again in his head, he felt desperate to find some sort of clarification that would put his mind at ease.

Fortunately, there _was_ one more option that he had yet to try.

And it was waiting for him on the other side of this door.

Finally deciding to go through with his plan, Sigurd briefly knocked on the wooden surface and patiently waited for a response, pacing back and forth in anxiety.

He had no idea if it was foolish of him to open up about his inner conflicts like this, considering how controversialthey were, but Valka had never been a woman to judge him based on his private thoughts.

He just hoped the seeress would have some answers for him today. These visions had disrupted his life for long enough, and the longer he allowed them to fester beneath the surface, the more Sigurd feared they would eventually break through.

Odin willing, it would never come to that.

“Sigurd Jarl,” Valka’s voice suddenly said from behind, causing the man to whip around. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here.”

Sigurd smiled at the völva, trying to hide the unease he felt within. “Valka. I didn’t know you were out. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

She held up a reassuring hand. “Have no fear. I was simply collecting ingredients for my rituals. Normally, Eivor helps me gather them, but the man appears to be occupied with other matters today. I did not wish to disturb him.”

Valka stepped closer to the jarl, tilting her head in an inquisitive manner. “But set all that aside. What brings you to me, Sigurd? I must admit, it is a great curiosity to find you on my doorstep. Are you in need of my services?”

The viking sighed in fatigue. “I’m afraid so, old friend. I’ve been having... dreams, lately. Visions. They haunt me in my sleep, and consume my thoughts during the day. Their meaning continues to elude me, but I suspect there is something of great importance behind them. I’d like to hear your opinion.”

Valka nodded in understanding, eyeing Sigurd with a newfound interest. “Indeed. I sense a great burden resting on your shoulders; a battle being fought inside your heart. It would be wise to unravel the messages your dreams are attempting to convey, for one cannot fight while a war wages inside them.”

She beckoned Sigurd, gesturing to the hut’s door. “Come, my friend. Let us see if we can decipher your dreams together.”

Walking through the entrance, Sigurd stepped into the serene atmosphere of the hut as he followed Valka from behind, craning his neck downwards in order to fit through the short archway.

Inside, he was immediately welcomed by a strong mixture of aromas that consisted of incense and herbs, and the delicate _clings_ of multiple wind-chimes could be heard dancing throughout the breeze. 

It was peaceful in here, Sigurd thought. Valka always seemed to give off a meditative aura wherever she walked, and now that they were in a more secluded area, he felt better suited to share his thoughts.

Though, that didn’t mean he was free of his skepticism just yet.

“Now, then...” Valka said, placing her freshly gathered ingredients down, “let’s talk about your visions, Sigurd. How often do you experience them? And when do they come to you?”

Sigurd leaned against a wall, crossing his arms in a casual manner. “They plague my dreams every night, I’m afraid. In spite of all my efforts to block them out.”

Valka rubbed her chin in thought. “And what of the images you see in them? Are they always the same?”

“Mostly. There _are_ slight differences every once in a while, but ultimately, they seem to be variants of the same vision.”

“Then it would be foolish to ignore them,” Valka concluded. “One does not experience such persistent dreams as a coincidence. Especially ones that seem to be so strongly connected. The gods are trying to speak to you, Sigurd.”

The jarl shrugged in confusion. “But what are they saying?”

“Well,” Valka approached the man, “why don’t we find out? Tell me what happened in your most recent vision. And please, be as descriptive as possible.”

Sigurd took a deep breath and thought back to his latest dream, trying to recall every single detail.

“I remember... it started in a forest. The trees around me were tall and dense, and the space between them was filled with a fog so thick that it obscured everything in its path. It felt as if I was walking through the depths of Niflheim itself. I didn’t know where to go, or how to find my way out, but eventually, I came across a wild boar. It was alone in the forest, and... it seemed to be beckoning me. So, I followed it.”

Valka raised a brow in curiosity. “Oh? And where did this boar take you?”

“It led me through the woods, as if it knew the way out. But our journey was not without delays. First, the boar took me to an opening in the forest. There was a group of runestones there, all of them arranged in a circle. And in the middle stood a statue of the god Forseti, gazing down at me.”

That piqued the seeress’ interest. “Forseti? The god of justice? Most curious...” she paused for a moment, contemplating the vision. “Tell me, where else did this boar lead you?”

“Its next destination was a great bridge,” Sigurd remembered. “It spanned across a large river, and was thatched with glittering gold.”

“Gjallarbrú.” Valka instantly recognized. “The Bridge to Hel.”

Sigurd agreed with the statement. “That’s what I thought as well. But what could it mean? A boar leading me to the gates of Hel?”

The völva shook her head in uncertainty. “I do not yet know, but the message behind your dream becomes clearer with every word. Please, continue. Did this boar take you anywhere else?”

The man nodded. “Yes, there was one more location. In fact, the events that happened there are the reason I come to you now.”

“Then tell me, and let us hope that it offers some form of clarity.”

“Well, the boar led me deeper into the woods,” Sigurd carried on. “By now, the mist had become so thick that I could hardly see where I was walking. I had nothing but the sounds of the forest to guide me, and the boar had abandoned my side, leaving me alone. After a while of wandering though, I found myself standing in front of an ominous cave. The inside was shrouded in darkness, and the nature around it seemed to be devoid of any life.”

Valka posed a question. “Did you approach this cave?”

“Yes,” Sigurd answered. “I meant to search it. But before I could enter, I heard a horrible squeal coming from the inside, as if the boar had just been attacked. The stench of blood filled my nose soon after, and just as I reached for my blade, I heard a menacing growl rumbling from the shadows. Before I knew it, the head of a black dragon had emerged from the cave’s mouth, and its teeth were covered in red. But instead of finding the boar in its grasp as I expected...”

Sigurd paused, admittedly feeling somewhat disturbed, “...I saw myself. Dead, and clamped between its jaws. That’s when the dream ended.”

Taking in everything the jarl just told her, the seeress fell into a concentrated silence and paced around the hut for a moment, gazing blankly at the floor as Sigurd waited for a response.

“...Valka?” The viking said, walking closer to her. “Do you have any idea what this could mean?”

The woman turned to face him, briefly explaining her thought process as she analyzed his peculiar vision.

“Indeed. This dream speaks very plainly to me, Sigurd. Though, I must warn you -- you will not like what it has to say.”

The man sighed in nervousness, bracing himself for her interpretation. “I can’t say I’m surprised. These dreams have always given me a grim feeling. Very well, then. What do you think the message is?”

Valka walked him through her observation, addressing each of the key moments. “This forest you spoke of -- the one shrouded in mist -- it sounds like a labyrinth. A maze with no clear beginning, and no clear end. It seems to me that you are feeling lost, Sigurd. That you are uncertain of your direction in life.”

“...As for this boar,” she continued, “boars are often a symbol of fertility. Or love. They are even sometimes sacrificed during weddings to ensure good fortune for a new marriage. So the fact that this animal was the only way you could navigate the forest intrigues me...”

The seeress gazed out one of the windows in thought, speaking mostly to herself as she unraveled Sigurd’s vision. 

“And the appearance of Forseti -- that is no coincidence. As I said before, he is the god of justice, so I believe his presence indicates a feeling of being judged, or tried.” 

Valka faced the jarl, placing her hands on her hips. “Do you feel remorse for something you have done, Sigurd? A sense of guilt, perhaps?”

The man shrugged. “No, for I have done nothing wrong.”

“Not _yet,_ ” the völva corrected. “But you will.”

Sigurd couldn’t deny that he was alarmed by the statement. “And... what exactly do you think I’ll do?”

Valka skipped to the end of his vision. “Well, in order to answer that, we must first understand this dragon you encountered. You said it attacked the boar when you arrived at the cave, yes?”

“Yes. But as I later revealed, it was my _own_ corpse being held between its teeth.”

“Hmm... then I believe this dragon was Nidhogg.”

_“Nidhogg?”_ Sigurd repeated in surprise. “You mean the dragon that resides in Hel?”

Valka gave him a firm nod. “Yes. As you know, Nidhogg feasts on the corpses of the souls that occupy Hel -- specifically those who have committed the most egregious crimes. These crimes can include murder, oath-breaking, or...” she threw a glance at the jarl, “...adultery.”

The seeress stepped in front of Sigurd, closing the distance between them as she explained her final conclusion to him.

“The message is clear. You are in love with someone who you know you shouldn’t be. Someone who isn’t Randvi. You feel disoriented in life because you do not know how to confront these emotions, but you know that this person is the only one who can clear the way. Unfortunately, however...” 

Valka’s tone softened with sympathy, “...since you _are_ spoken for, you understand that it is forbidden to chase after these feelings. This explains the presence of Forseti, and why Nidhogg would feast on your corpse.”

Valka placed her hands on Sigurd’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. “You are fighting a war against your own heart, and it is destroying you. You know you cannot endure this battle for much longer... and that is why you will betray Randvi.”

Sigurd’s eyes widened in shock at that. “ _What...?”_

He pushed the völva’s hands off, backing away from her. “N-No. I wouldn’t do that. No matter how strong my feelings may be. Randvi is a good friend. I would never hurt her like that.”

Valka crossed her arms, unsurprised at the man’s defiance. “You would not be the first to fight against the Nornir, but heed my words, Sigurd. It is an effort doomed to end in futility. You _will_ betray Randvi, and you will do so in the name of whomever truly has your heart.”

Still, Sigurd refused to believe her. “But I am a jarl, Valka! I have duties to carry out. People to take care of. There’s an entire community depending on me! Surely, I would not sacrifice it for something as... as reckless as this! No matter how strong the temptation is.”

“A man’s love can only be restrained for so long, Sigurd. You must learn to accept this. For your own sake.”

The viking’s shoulders slouched with worry. “But we are talking about _adultery,_ Valka. One of the most severe betrayals of a person’s trust. My love may not rest with Randvi, but even then... I could not harm her in such a manner. I could not jeopardize this clan for my own passions.”

The seeress let out a sigh, worried for the future of her jarl. “The gods have spoken with this vision, Sigurd. The more you struggle within the threads of fate, the more you will simply hinder yourself.”

Valka returned to the ingredients she collected earlier, preparing them for her next ritual. 

“I have given you all the aid I can. Do with my words what you will, but remember... the gods are always guiding us.”

**~~~~~~~~~~**

**ONE WEEK LATER**

**NIGHTTIME**

Sitting quietly on a wooden crate, Sigurd watched the soothing movement of the river in front of him as its waters gently rippled past the harbor, filling the air with a soft trickle that seemed to harmonize with the chirping of nearby crickets.

At the moment, the rest of the clan was celebrating the success of a recent raid and helping themselves to an abundance of food, all of which had been freshly provided by the newfound facilities in their settlement.

Joyous laughter could be heard echoing in the distance, and despite the overwhelming darkness of the blank English sky, the longhouse only seemed to shine brighter in its shadow, radiating like a beacon.

Unlike his fellow clan members however, Sigurd had little room in his mind left for celebrating. His thoughts still lingered on what Valka told him the previous week, and in spite of all efforts to fight against his feelings, Sigurd knew deep down that what the völva said was true.

He was in love with Eivor. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

That man was just... everything he wanted.

His personality, his spirit, his passion for poetry -- it all clicked with Sigurd in a way that he had never felt with anyone else before. There was a certain warmth that filled his heart every time he laid eyes on the man, and with each passing day, Sigurd found it harder and harder to hide his true emotions.

But why couldn’t he forget about this? Why couldn’t he just bury his thoughts and ignore them like he always did with previous men?

Why couldn’t he just... be _normal?_

_Gods above,_ Sigurd cursed to himself. what would Styrbjorn have thought about him if he could see him now?

The last time he saw his father, he had left him behind to deal with the politics in Norway right after scolding him about giving up his birthright. He had forced Eivor and the rest of the clan to follow him into a hostile territory, and now, he was about to ruin his own marriage for the sake of his love life.

Everything was falling apart in his world... and as much as he may have wanted to scream at the gods for allowing him to go down such a path, Sigurd knew it was ultimately his fault.

And someday, the consequences would catch up to him.

“...Sigurd?”

Jolting his head in the direction of the sudden voice, the redheaded man turned around to see who had approached him, only to find none other than Eivor himself watching from a short distance.

“Brother.” Sigurd greeted bleakly. “I should’ve known you’d find me sooner or later.”

The younger man smiled, attempting to lighten his sibling’s foul mood. “What are you doing out here, silly bird? Everyone at the feast misses you.”

The older man brought a hand up to his temple, rubbing it in stress. “Now’s not a good time, Eivor.”

Still determined to cheer his brother up, the blond viking paused for a moment before taking a seat next to Sigurd, gazing at him with a humorous twinkle in his eyes.

“...What about now?”

Sigurd sighed. “Eivor, _please.”_

The younger man frowned, suddenly worried about what was going on.

“Not even a chuckle, huh. Must be pretty serious.” He leaned closer to the man, his voice quiet with concern. “...Care to share your thoughts?”

Sigurd let out a breath, unsure of how to broach the subject with him. 

“No. Not really. I have much on my mind right now, and I fear it would not do either of us any good to put them into words.”

Eivor’s expression sank with unease. “If that is what you wish. But I must admit, Sigurd... I’ve been worried about you lately.”

That caught the older man’s attention. “Oh?”

“Indeed. You’ve... changed this past week. And not for the better. You’ve become more distant. Reserved. Sometimes, I feel as though you’re trying to avoid me.” A realization crossed Eivor’s mind. “...Have I done something to upset you, brother?”

Sigurd shook his head, quick to reassure the man. “N-No, Eivor. It isn’t you.”

Eivor’s brow remained furrowed. “But it _is_ something.”

The redheaded man turned away from his brother, annoyed with himself.

“Listen, Eivor... I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I need to be alone right now. My thoughts are caught in a haze at the moment, and being with you does nothing except tangle them even further. So, please... just _leave_ me be.”

The younger man fell silent at the response, admittedly somewhat hurt by Sigurd’s words. Was he truly that much of a burden?

Picking up on Eivor’s discontent, Sigurd instantly felt a tinge of guilt tugging at his heart as he took a moment to recompose himself, hoping to reconcile with the man.

“Forgive me, Eivor...” he said softly. “I... I did not mean...”

Eivor slowly began to separate himself from his brother, not wishing to provoke him any further.

“...I understand, Sigurd.” He murmured sorrowfully. “I’ll... I’ll go now.”

Sigurd immediately rose from his seat and gripped Eivor’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait!” He urged. “I...”

The older man trailed off into silence, uncertain of how he was going to explain his feelings.

“...I had a vision.” He finally admitted, deciding to open up. “Many of them, in fact. They had been bothering me ever since we left Norway, and so I asked Valka for clarification. I hoped she would be able to put my mind at ease.”

It didn’t take long for Eivor to catch on. “...But that’s not what happened, is it.”

“No. She _was_ able to decipher my vision, but the message behind it was... unnerving, to say the least.”

The blond man turned back towards Sigurd, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“Speak plainly to me, brother.” He encouraged in a comforting tone. “What happened in your vision? Why are you so troubled?”

Sigurd took a deep breath, unable to hide behind this facade any longer.

“I’ll spare you the details of my dream,” he said, sitting back down, “but Valka claimed it was a warning of what was to come. She believes it indicates that I’ll... betray Randvi. That I will commit adultery.”

Eivor sat beside his brother, clearly surprised by the explanation. “Adultery? That’s a serious crime, Sigurd. Do you know whom you’ll commit it with? Did Valka say?”

The older man shook his head in a dour manner, his expression heavy with heartache. 

“No. But she did not need to. For I already know the answer.”

Lacking the willpower to explain his visions any further, Sigurd simply brought his gaze to Eivor and stared at the man with a prominent sense of despair in his eyes, wishing desperately that he could rid himself of these feelings.

“Eivor...” Sigurd whispered, not knowing how else to describe his emotions, “I...I think I’m in love with you.”

Taken aback by the sudden confession, Eivor froze on the spot and felt his body turn to ice as he processed what he just heard, admittedly unsure of how to respond.

“You’re... in love with me?” He repeated, still in shock. “But when I kissed you that night in Norway, you said--”

“--I know what I said.” Sigurd interrupted, his shell cracking with every word. “But I was wrong. I realize that now. The truth is... I’ve loved you for a very long time. I think I’ve always felt this way, even _before_ our conversation in Fornburg. But I was never willing to admit it.”

Eivor listened intently. “And now?”

“Now...” the older man choked up, despite his efforts to conceal it, “I... I don’t know. I don’t know _what_ to feel. I don’t even think it matters.”

Sigurd turned to face his brother, his tone sharp with frustration. “I’m a married man, Eivor. And a jarl. I have responsibilities to take care of. Matters to attend to. There is an entire clan watching my every move; reflecting my every thought. It doesn’t matter if I love you or not. The simple fact is... I _can’t._ I was never meant to.”

Eivor sensed the pain in the other man’s words, wishing he could help. “What do you mean you were never meant to?”

Sigurd chuckled, though not out of amusement. “Isn’t it obvious? We are both men, Eivor. When was the last time you saw a marriage between a couple like us? Or a jarl waltzing around with his husband in tow? It doesn’t happen because it was never supposed to.”

He dragged a hand down his face, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. “Can you imagine what my father would think if he saw me now? His only son -- the man who would’ve taken his place as king -- throwing away the marriage that he arranged for the sake of being with the man he adopted. What a joke.”

The younger man offered some insight, trying to heal his brother’s wounds. 

“...I understand if you’re concerned about betraying Randvi, Sigurd. But there’s no shame in loving another man. You wouldn’t be the only one who’s felt this way. And you won’t be the last.”

Sigurd remained obstinate. “That doesn’t mean it’s right. I need to set an example for our clan, Eivor. I need to be the one to guide them through this war. How can I do that when I feel like _this?_ When I’m...” his voice began to tremble, “...when I’m in love with you?”

The redheaded man rose from his seat, pacing around the pier in annoyance.

“I just don’t understand why the gods would afflict me with such a nuisance. Is this my punishment for leaving my father’s side? Is this their way of testing my resolve? I _know_ it isn’t right for me to feel this way, but...” Sigurd’s eyes became misty with tears, and he looked hopelessly out at the river, “...it’s just who I am. And I don’t think I can change it.”

Standing alone at the edge of the harbor, Sigurd buried his face in his hand as he silently stared down at the water, feeling as though he were already drowning in it. 

What kind of mess had he gotten himself into? Not only was he on the verge of endangering his marriage with Randvi, he was also one step away from turning Valka’s prediction into a reality.

He couldn’t love Eivor. He just couldn’t.

Too much was already at stake with the war against the Saxons -- and considering how they had next to no allies in Mercia at the moment, Sigurd knew he couldn’t afford to divert his focus.

But his heart had a mind of its own. No matter how much he tried to suppress these emotions, or pretend they didn’t exist, they always seemed to come right back up. Like a tide crashing against the shore.

Eivor was the only one he wanted. The only person he had ever longed to be with. There was a type of love between them that Sigurd had never felt anywhere else, and with the Nornir constantly pushing him to confront his fate, he wondered if there was any point in resisting it by now.

But it was a feat much easier said than done. Even though Sigurd knew this was something he couldn’t simply wish away, he was still hesitant to face it head-on.

There were too many risks. Too many unknowns. The future remained obscured by fog -- just like the forest in his dream -- and the deeper he found himself venturing into this dilemma, the less Sigurd was certain he’d be able to climb out of it.

Snapping back to reality, Sigurd’s head perked up in surprise when he suddenly felt a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his chest, drawing him into a tight embrace.

Eivor’s head was resting on his shoulder at the moment, and despite the harsh words Sigurd threw at him before, the man didn’t appear any less determined to help him through this.

“...I understand how you feel, Sigurd.” He reassured. “If I’m being honest, it wasn’t too long ago that I felt the same way. I hated myself for how I saw the world, and I wanted nothing more than to be like everyone else.”

Eivor gazed up at the sky, watching calmly as a blanket of stars flickered above them. “I remember I used to dream of the day when it would all make sense. When... everything would fall into place. But it never happened, because I was never willing to make the sacrifices that came with it.”

The younger man looked back at Sigurd, holding him close.

“The truth is, brother, there _is_ no easy way out of this. The journey ahead of you is going to be full of denial and judgement, and there are going to be times when you’ll wish you never said a word about this to anyone. But when you find yourself trapped in those moments, just remember...”

Eivor brought a hand up to Sigurd’s cheek. “The best gift we can give ourselves is acceptance. It won’t always protect us against those who may wish us harm, but it _will_ offer us peace. And sometimes, assurance in our identity can guard us better than any amount of armor can. After all, it is difficult to harm a man who does not fear pain.”

Sigurd took in everything his brother just said, admittedly a tad overwhelmed by it all, but feeling more content.

“...You always know the right thing to say, Eivor.” He replied with a small smile.

The younger man chuckled, separating the hug. “Not always. But as I said before, I understand your struggle. And I know a few other people who do too. You are not alone in this, Sigurd.”

The redheaded man placed his hand on top of Eivor’s, gripping it securely. 

“Thank you, Eivor. I mean it. It will take me some time to fully accept this, but... I think I’m ready to try.”

Eivor beamed brightly at the statement. “It gladdens my heart to hear it, Sigurd. You know I’ll always be here if you need me.”

Sigurd stepped towards the other man, his voice gentle with affection.

“I know.”

Pulling Eivor’s face closer to his, Sigurd suddenly placed a loving kiss on the man’s lips and held him tight, embracing him under the soft light of the stars that dusted the sky above them.

Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to stop, but in spite of the protestations, Sigurd felt more at peace than he had ever felt in his entire life.

There was a genuine sense of love between them. A sense of security. Everything about Eivor made Sigurd feel safe, and the shell he once wore had completely fallen apart.

Though, he knew he was going to regret this, come the next morn. The world always seemed to realign itself with the arrival of daybreak, and Sigurd had no doubts that their relationship would summon a storm in the near-future.

But this was what he _needed._ It was what he wanted.

A new path had finally revealed itself in the mist that often clouded Sigurd’s dreams, and even though he knew it would be full of obstacles just like the one in his vision, he now understood that it was necessary to traverse it.

No matter how harshly people judged him, or how drastically their view of him changed, Sigurd was prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead. He may have carried a heavy sense of dread in his heart, but now, he realized that Eivor was the key to his happiness.

That man was the greatest gift Freyja ever gave to him, after all.

And he had no intentions of letting him go.


End file.
